


The Cure

by eyes0ny0u



Category: SHINee
Genre: Angst and Humor, Coming of Age, Friendship, Gen, Slice of Life
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-22
Updated: 2019-08-22
Packaged: 2020-09-24 00:15:06
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,543
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20349178
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/eyes0ny0u/pseuds/eyes0ny0u
Summary: Possessing "magic hands" is all fun and games until it's not and it's threatening to break something important and dear. Will a fortune teller's cure help Taemin or will Jinki finally walk away?





	The Cure

**Author's Note:**

> Prompt #: 3  
Pairing: Jinki/Taemin  
Prompt Summary: Fortune teller gives a to-do list to remove Taemin's “magic hands”. he drags his housemate Jinki to do it with him. Jinki doesn't believe it’ll work especially when the first task is: hold someone’s hand every 15mins.

Taemin patted his back pockets. It was flat; next, he checked the pockets of his leather jacket. Nada. He turned about and retraced his steps, from the entrance of the building to his apartment door. No keys. Taemin growled low in his throat at the realization he lost another set of keys.

The beer, fries and Cheetos were not sitting well with him. The stale scent of cigarette smoke and someone’s perfume was not helping his roiling stomach.

“Jinki?” Taemin called out a little above whisper, rattling the doorknob. “Jinki! Open up, man.”

Taemin banged at the door a little louder, as his other hand reached for his phone. When he didn’t hear any movement from inside, he pulled out his phone and launched the messaging app. Scanning the list of profile pics with the sunniest smile, Taemin was surprised at how he had to keep on scrolling to find the last message from Jinki. After his third swipe up, Taemin gave up and clicked the search icon.

How long has it been since he talked to his roommate? 

📲 _LEE, TAEMIN: jinkles where u at?_

Jinki was surprised at the text. With a pang of guilt, he noticed the last text message he had sent to Taemin: 1-Jan-2019, with one of his generic New Year greetings reserved for people he felt he was obligated to greet during important holidays.

📲_ Keymaster: Grabbing dinner. What’s up?_

📲_ LEE, TAEMIN: lost my keys and I need the bathroom. bad!_

📲_ Keymaster: Again?_

📲_ LEE, TAEMIN: BATHROOM!_

Jinki sighed and turned on his heels to jog back to their place. He found his flatmate sagged against their door with an uncomfortable look on his face. Neither of them exchanged greetings as Jinki pulled out his keys and unlocked the door.

As soon as the lock released, Taemin barrelled past Jinki and crashed into the apartment, almost slamming against the foyer table. Taemin recovered and continued to hop-run with closed knees into the guest bathroom. One hand holding on to the seat of his pants.

Jinki shook his head at the comical picture Taemin presented. He went to the foyer table and opened the central drawer where he kept extra keys because his flatmate losing his belongings was a given. He grabbed a sticky note and wrote instructions for Taemin.

“I’m leaving,” Jinki called out above the flushing sound of the toilet, placing the key on top of the note.

Taemin heard the sound of the front door closing as he left the bathroom. “Jinks?” he called out, patting his hands dry on the front of his jeans. He peeked into the apartment’s entryway when he didn’t see his roommate in the living room right across the bathroom. He was about to head into Jinki’s room when his phone buzzed.

_ 📲 Keymaster: Spare key on the table by the door._

Taemin went back into the foyer and picked up the key. Man, he has to stop losing keys. One day he has to remember to ask Jinks how much he owes him for all the key cuts he had made over the five years they have been living together. Taemin doesn’t remember paying for any of it.

He should do something nice for his roommate. Inspired, Taemin grabbed the key off the table and raced to catch up with Jinki. It was Wednesday if Jinki was going out for dinner; the pork-hock shop was his destination.

“Jinki!”

Jinki jerked around at his name, brows rising at the sight of Taemin running down the street towards him.

“What?” Jinki asked when Taemin caught up to him.

“Let me buy you dinner,” Taemin gasped, trying to catch his breath. “For saving my ass tonight.”

Jinki smiled at the unintended pun. “No need, I’m good. You can go home and rest.”

“No, I insist,” Taemin pressed. “It’s the least I can do. And besides, after making room, I’m feeling peckish.”

“Your money,” Jinki shrugged as they arrived at the pork-hock shop. The two of them nodded at the wrinkled, old lady at the till. She beamed happily and motioned them further into the shop, where the dinner crowd had already started.

The mouth-watering aroma of grilled meat spices and smoke wafted from every occupied table. Taemin sighed. His hair was going to smell like food. That was why he’d stop coming to places like this. Food smell clung to everything - even to the skin.

While the smell was enticing and just perfect for when he was eating, it was not something he liked to smell once he was out of the restaurant. But he couldn’t be a bitch about it, Jinki loved this place. He once said it reminded him of their family ran pork hock restaurant back in Gwangju.

Taemin reached for the water jug and started serving Jinki. The other man looked up in surprise.

“What?” Taemin asked, pushing the glass closer towards Jinki. “I still remember my manners, you know.”

“At least there’s one thing you remember,” Jinki said reaching for the glass.

“Touché,” Taemin said, raising his glass at Jinki.

Jinki grinned as he clinked his glass against Taemin’s.

This was nice. The silly bantering reminded Jinki of a time when a couple of country bumpkins braved the big bad city of Seoul. Armed with their scholarships and youthful bravado, Jinki and Taemin promised each other they would make it out here.

At the memory, Jinki started humming the Empire State of Mind by Alicia Keys. Before he moved out of Gwangju, he was not familiar with any of the foreign pop music. He heard of the classics of course – his mother loved to play Sinatra, Donny Hathaway and Pat Boon to his father’s irritation. In his book, Elvis will forever be king and Queen should always be hailed. So while he grew up well educated with the best, he was in the dark when it came to the latest hits.

When Taemin found out he’d never heard of Alicia Keys or Jay-Z, he made it his goal to educate his less hip friend.

_ “Jae, what?”_

_ “Jay-Z.”_

_ “Jae Ssi?”_

_ “Z, Jinki-ya, Z Z Z Z z z z z z!”_

For months, Jinki pretended he could not pronounce the letter just to watch Taemin struggle to teach him.

_ “_ _Hey Taemin, play that song again.”_

_ “Which one?”_

_ “The one from Mr. Jae.”_

_ “Who the heck is Mr. Jay?_”

_ “You know, Jae Ahjussi.”_

_ “Jae Ahjussi?”_

_ “Yup. Jae Ssi!”_

Taemin would groan and glare at him and launch into another lecture of how to properly pronounce the letter. Two months later, Jinki had to give a speech for the American exchange student’s farewell party. Taemin’s jaw almost hit the floor at Jinki’s almost-flawless, American-accented English. He didn’t speak to him for almost a week in annoyance.

Looking across the table, Jinki saw Taemin smile before taking a sip of his water. He wondered if he was remembering the same thing.

After they had dinner, they decided to take a walk to their favourite ice cream shop. They didn’t talk much, but the silence wasn’t awkward or tense. It was comfortable and relaxing with the slight breeze and clear skies. Taemin felt content. Not antsy or feeling like he had to be elsewhere where chatter and music pumped constantly drowning his senses.

Being around Jinki always had that effect on him. The man was his personal Prozac. And it wasn’t just him. He’s seen Jinki walk into an argument and has all parties involve start talking calmly. Shoulders start lowering, breathing slowed, and people started thinking before opening their mouths. All Jinki did was ask, “what’s going on?”

The two of them were licking their ice cream, still enjoying their companionable silence when they spotted a woman who had her fortune-telling table set up at the street corner a couple of blocks before their apartment building.

The magenta, full-length skirt, lifting slowly in the wind caught Jinki’s eyes. Pepper and salt hair tucked under a colourful scarf. She shuffled her cards as she watched the passersby, not doing anything to draw business. While her hands were flipping the cards with practiced ease, it was clear she was more interested in watching the people around her. Her eyes followed people around, looking them up and down. Jinki wondered if she was sizing up their socio-economic status or determining how gullible they can be.

_Smart,_ Jinki thought. Instead of making herself too available, she’s making it seem her services are more exclusive. But of course, the garish outfit and the street corner set-up did a lot to detract from the impression of exclusivity. _Who would fall for the obvious scam anyways?_

“Ooh,” Taemin gasped beside him, eyes on the fortune-teller. Before Jinki knew it, Taemin was dragging him towards the woman.

“You still open?” Taemin asked enthusiastically.

“Of course,” the woman gestured to the stool in front of her.

Jinki tried jerking his hand away from Taemin’s grip, but the other man’s hold was firm.

“I don’t want to do this,” Jinki growled close to Taemin’s ear. 

“C’ mon,” Taemin whined. “It’ll be fun!”

Before Jinki could do anything, Taemin had shoved him on the stool. Jinki averted his eyes from the curious gazes cast their way. He sat still deciding the best way to get out of the situation was to get it over with without drawing attention.

“Don’t be scared, child,” the fortune-teller told him with a challenging grin. “I don’t bite.”

“I’m not scared,” Jinki said, forcing a smile.

“You just don’t believe in all of this,” the woman said, gesturing to the tarot cards and crystals. “And you don’t like the attention.”

Jinki blushed at the giggles and whispers from a passing group of girls as they eyed the trio. He could imagine the silly picture they presented with both men still hanging on to their cones of ice cream.

Jinki wolfed down the rest of his ice cream – no way was he going to waste good ice cream because of Taem’s whims.

“Can we start?” Jinki asked the woman, wiping the sticky dribbles off his fingers.

The woman shuffled the cards with intent this time. She put the deck in front of Jinki and ordered him to cut it in three piles.

After cutting the deck, the fortune teller started distributing the cards in a diamond formation and started talking:

“You were born under a lucky star,” she began. “Wherever, whoever, people adore you. If you put your mind to it, there’s not much in life you would want for.”

_Planning and self-discipline_, the words echoed in Jinki’s head. It was a lesson his father had drilled into him. More than the star he was supposedly born under, Jinki believed people liked him for the results he delivered.

“You’re the type of person who reasons everything out,” the woman continued. “If it doesn’t make sense, then it’s not for you.”

“Ooh,” Taemin breathed behind him. “She’s good.”

Jinki sat straighter, and his face grew stiffer.

“If people looked closer – if they’re allowed closer – they might find you cold or unfeeling.”

“Ouch,” Taemin winced behind Jinki.

“But it doesn’t matter,” the woman said, flipping another card open. “You do a very good job of making people feel good about their relationship with you. They don’t notice that they’re being kept at a very safe distance.”

Jinki narrowed his eyes at the woman; she merely stared back and quirked a smile.

“Hmmm,” she mused, staring at the upright three of swords she just flipped over. “Seems like you might have a reason for being so distant.”

Taemin tilted his head, trying to see the card the woman was tapping. “What does the card mean?”

“This is my reading,” Jinki announced, interrupting whatever the woman was about to say.

“Be careful of clinging to the past,” the fortune-teller said as she slid a look at Taemin, hovering over Jinki's shoulder. “This past has the power to bring you to your knees.”

Jinki stared at her mute and still, wondering how she was managing to make him uncomfortable with her generic suppositions.

"But you're a smart guy," the old woman said in a light tone, gathering her cards, reshuffling them. "You easily overcome the matters of the heart with the power of your mind."

Jinki frowned as he got up. He felt uncomfortable at the picture the woman painted of him. There was nothing wrong with being logical and reasonable. So he’s not the warmest person around, but he always made an effort to give anyone he was with a good time and was considerate of their needs. Of course, he expected the same courtesy returned to him. After all, he wasn’t anybody’s doormat.

He didn’t expect his friends to repay his kindness, but they should, at least, not take advantage of him. And if those people happen to be irresponsible and careless, worst a hindrance, it would be a smart thing to keep them at a distance.

Was that why he barely saw Taemin? He decided he was more trouble than he was worth?

“My turn!” Taemin pushed Jinki out of the way, interrupting Jinki’s thoughts.

The fortune-teller shuffled the card and asked Taemin to cut the cards just like she did with Jinki. Unlike Jinki, however, Taemin leaned forward, interested and excited.

“You were born under a bright star,” the woman opened. “You dazzle everyone around you. The constant life of the party.”

_She’s good, _Taemin thought again, grinning at the woman.

“You have more “friends” than you can name,” the woman said, not returning the smile. “Not that it bothered anyone that you can’t remember their name,” the woman continued, flipping another card. “They won’t remember you till the next party anyway.”

Taemin’s excitement died at the words. Well, yeah, there were people who he couldn't name, he passed out drunk with regularly. It was just the type of arrangement he preferred; fun and uncomplicated. She didn’t have to make it sound like he was _persona non grata _or something. This was not a fun reading. Where was the part where he was going to be rich and famous?

“You’re so used to fleeting encounters, you tend not to realize when people who do care, go out on a limb to be there for you,” the woman continued, this time glancing at Jinki behind Taemin’s shoulder. “You tend to use the people around you unconsciously. Expecting them to care for you.”

"I don't need a psychic to know that," Jinki snorted under his breath. 

But Taemin heard what his flatmate said. Taemin chewed on his bottom lip at what the woman said — using Jinki? He didn't think so. Like yeah, he was always borrowing Jinki's clothes, shoes, and money, but he didn’t think those constituted as taking advantage of him. Those things were returned – eventually.

"Real friends should be valued and appreciated," the old woman tsked. "Stop partying all night and pay attention to your life or you're going to lose more than keys!"

Taemin blanched. _How'd she know that?_

"Things slip through your fingers because you take most things for granted," the old woman said. "If you don’t pay attention, one day you'll lose something, and you will never get it back or find one like it.”

Another look slid pass Taemin's shoulder as the woman gathered her cards for the last time. 

"I can help you with your ‘magic hands’ if you're interested," the woman offered. “Twenty dollars and you’ll learn to keep your things.”

Jinki groaned inside. For a moment, he had fallen for the woman’s tricks. He was actually contemplating what she had told them. Of course, everything had been a ruse to sell. That was obvious now. Taemin, of course, liked the idea of a quick fix to his careless tendencies.

Five minutes later they were walking back to their apartment, the “magic hand” cure tuck safely inside Taemin’s leather jacket.

“She was good,” Taemin gushed. “How’d she know I lost my keys?”

“It was a good guess,” Jinki reasoned.

“How so?” Taemin asked, starting to sound indignant.

“Keys are the most common things people lose, Taem.”

“Most common, but not always!”

Jinki debated whether he should give a statistical argument, but knew that wasn’t going to help convince Taemin, so he merely shrugged.

“I mean, you can’t prove this isn’t one of those times she was guessing right.”

“And you can’t prove she was guessing wrong!”

“What? That doesn’t even make sense!”

“I mean you can’t prove she was guessing either,” Taemin amended.

Jinki snickered scoring that little stumble on his scoreboard.

“You know there’s an easy way of proving she’s a fake; you know that right?”

“Oh yeah?” Taemin challenged getting ready to defend the fortune teller.

“You do whatever that list says and if you aren’t instantly cured of your ‘magic hands’ that means she’s a fraud.”

“Deal!”

Taemin pulled out the list and inspected it. Jinki leaned in to read the instruction, but Taemin jerked it away and narrowed his eyes against the other man.

“How do I know you won’t try to sabotage me?”

“Why would I want to sabotage something that would benefit me in the long run?”

“You don’t have to say it like that!”

“Like what?”

“Like I’m a pain in the ass or something.”

“You _are _a pain in the ass!” Jinki laughed. “I still remember hauling you five flights of stairs because you lost your keys and passed out drunk in front of the building.”

“That was one time,” Taemin defended, cheeks turning red. He vaguely remembered, their neighbour from across the hall, Kibum, trying to get him inside. But he guessed he was too heavy; he left him on the building stoop to get Jinki. He also remembered being only in his boxers. How he lost his clothes, he can't remember.

“Uh-huh, and the week after that? When you locked yourself outside when it was pouring rain, and you had no umbrella?”

Taemin took a breath to defend himself.

“And what about that time when you almost fell off Minho’s balcony, trying to get to _our _balcony, because – surprise! – you lost your keys _again_.”

“Alright, point taken,” Taemin conceded. “Since you're not going to sabotage me, will you help me?”

"I'm not going to be your stand-in, Taemin."

"No, I mean, this list calls for another party's cooperation."

"No."

"You don't even know what we're supposed to do yet!"

"Don't care, it's not going to work so it's a waste of time."

"Are you scared to be proven wrong?" Taemin challenged, with a smug look.

"As if," Jinki snorted, grabbing the piece of paper from Taemin's hand. “What are you supposed to do anyway?”

📃 _1\. The afflicted must find an ally._

Jinki snickered at the term ‘afflicted.' As silly as it sounded, it was an accurate description of Taemin’s chronic inattentiveness.

📃 _2\. The afflicted must keep their ally within touching distance (link arms or hold hands.)_

Jinki’s brows slammed together at the line.

📃_ 3\. The afflicted must hold the ally every 15 minutes for 15 minutes._

📃 _4\. Must repeat the cycle without fail within 8 hours._

📃 _5\. If the 15 cycle is broken, the afflicted and the ally must start again._

“We’re supposed to do what?” Jinki exclaimed, staring at the list askance. 

“For the next eight hours, we have to complete the fifteen – fifteen thing,” Taemin said as he started walking again. “It’s supposed to ward off the bad juju that’s surrounding me.”

“Oh, for chrissake,” Jinki scoffed, slapping the piece of paper on Taemin’s chest and started walking ahead.

“You can't back out,” Taemin screeched, hurrying up to catch up with Jinki’s long strides. “I know you don’t believe in any of this, but do you honestly believe I’d lose my keys this many times without some weird shit going on?”

“Taemin,” Jinki said with quiet deliberation, looking straight ahead. “You’re so careless that if your dick weren’t permanently attached to you, you'd have lost it a long time ago.”

“No way!” Taemin protested, aghast at the alternate universe possibility.

“Instead of making an effort to be responsible; you’d rather believe you’re cursed,” Jinki’s gritted out, glaring at his companion. “So you can find a quick fix that’s never going to work!”

“Harsh,” Taemin exclaimed, clutching at his chest as if mortally wounded. All he got was a derisive "ha!" from his friend. Taemin tsked falling behind Jinki, shoulder’s slumping at the truth in the words. “You suck.”

“Stop partying and getting drunk, like the old lady said,” Jinki said. “You get so hungover you space out all the time. No wonder you’re losing stuff.”

“Yes, mom,” Taemin groused, pouting as he contemplated the pavement beneath their sneaker-clad feet.

Jinki peeked at Taemin’s sullen face, wondering if he went a little too far. He did tend to lose just about everything. But it wasn’t because he was cursed or haunted; he just didn’t pay attention to anything around him. It was a wonder how he’s a functioning and productive member of society.

Jinki glanced at the piece of paper Taemin was still holding. There was nothing silly or weird about what he needed to do. The purpose it served was stupid, in his opinion. But the action items weren’t hard at all. 

Jinki realized, analyzing what the 15 cycle entailed. The exercise would force Taemin to be aware of time and be aware of where his “ally” was at all times. And having someone do the exercise with him would ensure, Taemin didn’t’ give up. Plus, it was less likely to lose a person than an inanimate object.

The old lady _was_ good, Jinki mused. Whether she studied psychology or simply applied what she learned from watching people over the years, the old woman knew her thing. Jinki was impressed. It may not cure Taemin of his “magic hands,” but it was a start.

“Okay, let’s do it,” Jinki announced.

“Do what?” Taemin pouted, eyes still locked on the pavement. 

“Exorcise your demons,” Jinki said, waving his hands in the air, “whatever you call it.”

“For real?” Taemin asked, bolting up to a seated position. “You sure?”

“No, I’m not sure, but let’s do it. I volunteer to be your ‘ally.’”

Taemin grinned and grabbed Jinki’s hand, twining their fingers.

“Fifteen minutes starts now,” he announced, swinging their hands between them as they walked back to their apartment.

“Wait,” Jinki called out, pulling Taemin to a stop. “We’re going to bed in an hour so. We’ll break the cycle.”

“I know,” Taemin agreed, flashing him a huge grin as he pulled him into step beside him. “We’ll just look at this as practice.”

Jinki brushed a free hand over his lips to hide a smile. For all Taemin’s faults, he was still his friend, and it made him happy to see him this enthusiastic about improving himself.

## -0-

“Crap,” Taemin whispered. The door to the apartment was open, and from where he was, he could see the upturned foyer table.

Jinki dropped Taemin’s hand, rushing to the entrance and peering inside. Taemin followed him, intending to go in, but Jinki held him back as he reached for his phone.

"911 what is your emergency?”

“Someone broke into our apartment.”

“Are you inside your apartment?”

“No, we’re not.”

“Are you at 4385 Myungdong?”

“Yes - unit 1803.”

“Please stay put; a unit’s been dispatched.”

“Thanks.”

Taemin listened to the exchange slumping against the wall. He could feel his cheeks burning. He did not lock the door. He grabbed the key and rushed out of the apartment without locking it. Hell, he rushed out of the building without making sure the main door shut behind him.

“Don’t go in. Let the cops make sure no one is inside,” Jinki told Taemin as he leaned against the doorway.

Jinki took one look at Taemin’s stricken face, and he knew what happened.

“Christ, Taemin,” a healthy dose of disgust covered Jinki’s tone. Jinki was so mad he had to face the opposite wall to stop himself from yelling at Taemin. _What a fucking airhead!_

Taemin watched Jinki scrub a hand over his face. He felt himself shrinking with every tick of Jinki’s cheek. He could practically see the anger lodging itself in the bobbing Adam’s apple. _What was wrong with him?_

A few minutes later, the intercom downstairs rang Jinki’s phone. A couple of police officers in standard grey uniforms met them at their apartment door. The officers went in and made sure the perp was no longer in the premises. They asked Jinki and Taemin to do an inventory of what was missing, so they could add it to their official reports. They can use the report to file for their insurance claim later.

An hour later, the officers left handing them a copy of their official police report and their calling cards. It was almost midnight by the time they made a semblance of order to their respective bedrooms. Whoever broke in, slashed their mattresses and cushions — probably hoping to find money stashed away. Their laptops, cameras, tablets and Jinki’s ring were taken.

At the mention of the last item, Taemin’s heart sank. The ring had been passed down to him by his father. When Jinki found the lucky person, he was going to propose with it. Just like his father did before him and his grandfather before.

“Jinki, I’m –“

“Save it, Taemin,” Jinki interrupted, continuing with his task of separating paper and plastic from the mess in the living room. 

“Please, Jinks, let me apologize,” Taemin pleaded. “I feel awful!”

“_You_ feel awful?” Jinki snarled. “What about me? How do you think I feel right now, Taemin. When I make damn sure every time I leave this place to double-check the lock!”

“I wanted to catch you so I could thank you.”

“So it’s my fault now?” Jinki asked, incredulous.

Taemin tried to correct himself, but Jinki cut him off.

“I’d rather you be ungrateful and spent your effort at growing up.”

Taemin opened and closed his mouth like a fish gasping out of water. He watched in silence as Jinki walked into his room and closed the door. He didn’t slam the door; he closed it slowly and deliberately.

_What was the use of apologizing when the damage has been done? _Taemin heard the adage in the silence that followed. _What the hell was wrong with him?_

It was funny when he locked himself out. It was an inconvenience when he lost yet another phone. But getting an irreplaceable family heirloom stolen was far from funny or inconvenient. Jinki who never disappointed anyone in his life was going to have to admit to his parents that he lost his mother’s ring — something given to him for safekeeping as part of upholding a family tradition.

Taemin looked around the living room. Earlier it was a neat space that held a comfortable leather couch, matching ottoman and little touches of home decoration, Jinki’s mother had added when she came to visit.

Now, the space was a wreck. Stuffing bulged out of the couch, the end table listed on one side. The ottoman was upside down on the floor. Jinki’s favourite Afghan throw was under a pile of debris on the floor.

Taemin's hands tingled, like had personally done the damage to their apartment. Taemin stuffed his hands into his pockets and felt paper inside. Pulling it out, he identified the “cure” to his magic hand. Taemin crumpled the piece of paper and dropped it on the recycle pile. The reality of it was, he was not cursed, nor was he unlucky. He was just careless and irresponsible.

## -0-

Jinki was sorting through the recycle pile, segregating the plastic from the paper. He was inspecting every paper he picked up to make sure he wasn’t tossing something important when he came across the “cure” to Taemin’s disastrous hands.

Jinki sighed at the thought of his flatmate. He remembered the bewildered look on his face, but Jinki had been so mad. It wasn’t so much as his stuff getting stolen; except for the ring, he would eventually replace everything else. He was just tired of dealing with Taemin’s inability to own up to his own mistakes.

But maybe it was his fault too for not calling Taemin on his previous fuck ups. Maybe he shouldn’t have let him get away with all the things he did. Hell, he basically taught the guy to take advantage of him. And when he couldn’t deal with the monster he helped create, he all but abandoned him. Some friend he was.

Jinki stared at the list in his hand. Taemin had been so excited to be rid of his “magic hands.” No matter how harebrained, Taemin was trying to improve himself. And Jinki had abandoned him instead of offering a better way, just because he thought Taemin was being silly.

“Hey,” Taemin greeted from his bedroom doorway, blinking against the sunlight streaming from their floor to ceiling east-facing glass wall.

“Hey,” Jinki returned glancing at the clock; it was only 9:00 am. Way too early for someone who didn’t usually clear his bedroom before two in the afternoon.

“Let me brush my teeth, and I’ll help.”

Jinki nodded, folding the paper in his hand and tucking it into his pocket. He fucked up. As a friend, he was a failure. The old lady was right; he was cold. If he remained on this path, he was going to be that person who lives in the periphery of everyone’s lives.

“What do you want me to do?” Taemin asked, hovering by the kitchen, watching him with a wary look.

“Help me carry these to the door,” Jinki said, motioning to the thrash bags surrounding him. He picked up two for himself and made his way to the door, still contemplating what he realized.

Without a word, Taemin followed him, carrying two of the plastic bags. He wanted to apologize again and do it right this time. He wanted to own up and mean what he says. He hoped it wasn’t too late. He hoped Jinki hadn’t given up on him totally.

For six hours straight, the two of them worked to clear the apartment. They didn’t talk much, but the silence wasn’t strained, nor was it the easy and companionable one like last night. Both were lost in thought, turning words over and over in their minds, knowing that at some point, some things have to be said for changes to be made.

Slowly coherent words formed and dangled from the tip of tongues, waiting for the right moment to let go. Taemin found his moment at the fading buzz of the vacuum.

“I’m really sorry, Jinks,” he said, looking Jinki in the eyes. “I’m sorry for being careless and irresponsible.”

Jinki was stunned. Taemin had only ever apologized for specific things he had done, like losing and breaking things. But he never really owned up to why he lost and broke things.

“I’m sorry for being a pain in the ass,” Taemin continued. “And I know I can never replace your ring, but I’ll buy you a new one – if you want a new one, that is. And know that I want to buy you a ring not to feel better, but because I want to replace something you lost.”

Jinki ran a hand through his hair as he listened, unaccountably nervous.

“I’m going to make a serious effort at being better at taking care of my and other people’s stuff,” Taemin continued. “I can’t promise I’ll get better immediately, but I want you to know, I’m going to make a serious effort at being better.”

Taemin fidgeted, nervous under the silent, contemplating look Jinki was giving him.

“And then maybe someday, when you see me improving,” Taemin rushed out. “You’ll believe me and forgive me. Then we can be friends again.”

“Friends again?” Taemin flinched at the question.

“We’re still friends, Taem,” Jinki said, smiling at the bewildered look on the other man’s face. “I’m sorry for snapping at you last night, I was upset.”

“I know,” Taemin gulped. “I’m sorry.”

“And to be honest, I don’t think I was fair to you,” Jinki admitted, walking closer to Taemin. “Not about being irresponsible – because you were. I had written you off before giving you a chance to be better.”

“I’m sorry too, man,” Jinki said, holding out his hand for a handshake.

Taemin beamed at Jinki, gripping the extended hand in relief. _He wasn’t too late._

Jinki pulled Taemin into a hug. Relief relaxed the tightness in his chest. _It wasn’t too late_.

When they pulled apart, Jinki watched Taemin catch his right hand and twined it with his.

“Help me finish what we started,” Taemin answered Jinki’s curious look.

“Perfect timing,” Jinki laughed. This time it was he who swung their joined hands forward, and he pulled them into the kitchen. “It’s time to cook dinner.”

Taemin groaned, realizing he had incapacitated Jinki’s dominant hand. The sound turned into a chuckle as he watched Jinki’s eyes disappear into the crescent folds.

Yeah, curing the cause of his ‘magic hand’ was going to be rough. But Taemin was glad he had a friend who was willing to help him through it.

## ~ End ~


End file.
